Amaranth and the Gates of Oblivion
by PlaguedByPlotBunnies
Summary: Mara didn't know heroes could be born in prisons. She also didn't know they could fall in love with emperors. (Follows Oblivion main quest) Martin/F!Hero


**A/N: **This story will be following the main Oblivion quest line with some artistic liberties taken. ;P Let's be honest, most of the characters in Oblivion are lacking in the character development department. I will do what I can to flesh some of them out. :)

This story is about Martin Septim and his second in command, who happens to be a quirky Bosmer girl named Mara. I've been wanting to write their story for a very long time. I am so glad I am finally getting the chance. :)

Updates will be every weekend on either Saturday or Sunday, depending on when my fiancee gets around to beta reading it for me. ;P

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Oblivion franchise/characters belong to Bethesda. Mara is completely my fault.

* * *

**Chapter I**

The cell was making her extremely claustrophobic. Mara sat, curled up in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees tightly as she fought back tears. She didn't know what bothered her most, the fact that she was in prison, or the fact that the only thing she could remember was her name. Was Mara really her name? She felt that it was, but at the same time she felt there was more to it. She clenched her fists tightly together and pressed them to her forehead, trying to remember so hard that it started to give her a headache. She was a Bosmer, a wood elf. She was twenty... twenty-something years old. Twenty-two? Letting out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding in Mara forced herself to stand up and observe her cell. Squatting in this cell wasn't going to help her remember anything. She needed to be around something, anything familiar. Escaping out the barred window was out of the question, for even if it was low enough for her to reach, the bars were still too close together for her to slip through. Her only way out was through her cell door.

Mara wiped at her eyes to remove any rogue tears and then made her way over to the door of her cell so she could examine the lock. As soon as she reached the door the snide voice of the prisoner in the cell across from her spoke up. "Well now, a pretty little Wood Elf. You're a little far from the forest, huh?"

Mara glanced over at the Dunmer man, but decided not to give him the satisfaction of replying. Instead, she tried to examine the lock on her door. It didn't matter to him that she didn't respond, for he continued nonetheless. "Looks like your days of woodland frolicking have come to a tragic end," he sneered cruelly. "To go from the gladed realm of Valenwood to a rat-infested hole like this. . . how very sad."

Mara wanted to tell him that she had never been to Valenwood, not that she could really remember, and certainly didn't 'frolic' anywhere. She swallowed heavily and kept her tongue in check. He wasn't worth a response.

He seemed to be determined to get a rile out of her. "Those walls must feel like they're closing in on you," he said with false sympathy. "Pretty soon you'll go mad, and the guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting."

Upon hearing that Mara spared him a glare and he caught her eye. He grinned evilly, seemingly glad that he finally got her attention. "That's right. You're going to die in here, Wood Elf! Die!"

"Shut your mouth, Dunmer scum!" Mara growled suddenly, unable to contain the fury that had been bubbling up inside her any longer. "We'll see who's laughing when I get myself out of here!" But what if she didn't get out? What if he was right? What if she was going to die in here? With no memory of who she really was? No. No, this wasn't going to be the end for her. She would get free. She must.

The Dunmer man meanwhile continued to laugh at her, but then stopped when the sound of approaching guards caught their attention. "Oh, you hear that? The guards are coming! For you!" He let out a final cruel laugh before retreating into the darkness of his cell.

Mara's heart picked up its pace and she swallowed heavily, moving away from the door and standing back in her cell by the window, wishing she could just turn invisible, or better yet, escape. The guards weren't coming for her. Her crimes couldn't have been that bad! Or were they? By the Nine, what had she done? Something so heinous that she was at the top of their agenda?! She could hear the guards talking amongst themselves, but her ears didn't register what they were saying, and she didn't care. Her heart almost stopped when she realized they had stopped right outside her cell door.

_"So this is the end... they have come for me..."_ Mara thought to herself miserably.

"What's this prisoner doing here? This cell is suppose to be off-limits!" the female guard spoke up, agitated.

_"Or not..."_ Mara held her breath and slowly came to the realization that maybe she was not about to be executed. Her back was pressed flat against the stone wall and she eyed the guards curiously, trying to make out what was going on.

"Ah...a usual mix-up with the watch I..." one of the other guards stammered apologetically to the female guard who was obviously the captain.

"Never mind, get that gate open!" the captain snapped. She then turned to peer in at Mara. It was dim in the cell, and Mara could hardly make out their faces, but she could feel the captain's glare on her. "Stand back, prisoner, we won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way!"

If she tried to stand much further back she would become one with the wall behind her. Instead she just averted her gaze and tried to appear as harmless and compliant as she could. The last thing she wanted to do was upset these guards, especially if she had committed a crime serious enough that would justify their slaying her right then and there.

The guards unlocked the cell door and entered. Two were men, one a Redguard, the other an Imperial. They kept their eyes trained suspiciously on her. They seemed to be escorting an older man dressed in very fine clothes. Obviously someone of great importance, but Mara had no idea who he could be. Then, of course, their was the female captain. Obviously a snooty Breton. Mara found herself confused by their armour, for it looked far to exotic to be mere Imperial guard armour.

"Stay put, prisoner," the Redguard man said, bringing Mara's musings to an end as he approached, standing between her and the older man.

Mara had no intention of moving at all, but she raised her gaze past the Redguard and her eyes locked with that of the older man. Recognition appeared on his face as soon as their eyes met and for a brief moment it seemed time had stopped.

"You... I've seen you..." he finally said softly, approaching her and ignoring the guards' protests. He gently took Mara by the shoulders and turned her to face him, studying her features. "Let me see your face..."

Mara froze. She hardly knew how to react. She had this overwhelming urge to smack him and tell him to keep his hands to himself. Was she supposed to recognize him too? because she didn't. She cautiously searched his face as well, hoping to bring back lost memories, but his face triggered nothing in her subconscious.

"You are the one from my dreams..." he finally said, lowering his gaze to the ground and closing his eyes, suddenly looking very worn and tired. "Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength."

Now Mara was beginning to think this old man was crazy. She was the one from his dreams? He had dreamt of her? Well that's not creepy at all. Feeling mildly disturbed, she gently pulled her shoulders from his grasp as she took a step back and furrowed her brow. "What's going on?" she asked, her eyes darting to the guards who looked as if they might destroy her if she so much as coughed in the older man's direction.

"Assassins attacked my sons, and I am next," the old man replied, looking back up at her, his expression grim, but not unkind. "My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads though your cell."

Mara raised her eyebrows. If assassins were indeed after this man he must be very important. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am your emperor, Uriel Septim," he replied, "By the grace of the Gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you, too, shall serve her in your own way."

Mara's eyes widened in surprise. The emperor! Someone of importance indeed! She bowed her head respectfully, though she hardly knew how one should behave in the presence of Tamriel's ruler. She cleared her throat and asked the question that had been on her mind ever since she had come out of her unconscious state: "Why am I in jail?" Though she was slightly afraid to hear the answer.

"Perhaps the Gods have placed you here so that we may meet," Uriel answered her with an almost affectionate smile. "As for what you have done... it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

Well that wasn't really the answer Mara had been expecting, though perhaps he was right. She was obviously being given a second chance by the Gods, and perhaps the lost memories were a blessing. She wrung her hands together and asked, almost to herself, "What should I do?" She felt as though she had been born again and had to start all over from scratch.

Uriel smiled kindly at her again. "You will find your own path. Take care... there will be blood and death before the end."

Before Mara could question this morbid statement the Blade Captain approached and took the emperor gently by the arm saying, "Please, sire, we must keep moving." She then went over to the wall next to the crude prison bed and pressed a large stone in the wall. Mara watched in awe as the bed lowered into the ground and the wall behind it slowly swung open. "Better not close this one... there is no way to open it from the other side," the Captain said as she entered into the dark tunnel, followed by the emperor.

The Redguard Blade who had been keeping his eye on Mara scoffed. "Looks like this is your lucky day," he said to her, going to follow after them. "Just stay out of our way."

Her lucky day indeed. Mara exhaled sharply, and watched them disappear around a bend at the end of the tunnel. She felt frozen in place as she stared down the dark, musty tunnel. Well, this was it. Freedom awaited her along with who knows what else. Did she have any loved ones waiting for her out there? Did she have anything waiting for her? There was only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, Mara stepped into the tunnel and set her new life in motion.

* * *

The middle-aged man awoke with a start, his heart racing and his skin moist with sweat. As he took in his surroundings he let out a deep sigh, lying back down on his pillow. It was just a bad dream. Despite this, however, he now felt wide-awake and didn't think he'd be able to get back to sleep anytime soon, so with a grunt he removed himself from his bed, sitting on the side of it and rubbing his temples briefly before standing and stretching. After changing into his priest robe he left his room and came up out of the undercroft and into the Temple of Akatosh. Being still fairly early in the morning the chapel was empty. Feeling light-headed, the man left the chapel and stood out on the stairs, deeply breathing in the fresh morning air of Kvatch.

The priest's name was Martin, and nightmares were a common occurrence for him, though this nightmare had been different. Usually his nightmares revolved around his youth when he had been a devout follower of Sanguine, the Daedric Prince of debauchery. This nightmare... He didn't even know what it had been about really, or what could have possibly triggered it in his subconscious. Even now he was having some trouble remembering all the details. He could remember pain, suffering, fire. . . Taking in a final deep breath of fresh air, Martin retreated back indoors. He went to one of the front pews, kneeling down and placing his head in his hands as he prayed to Akatosh.

The son of a farmer, Martin had grown up in the countryside near the city of Skingrad. His father had been an older man and he had never known his mother, for she had died giving birth to him. He had helped his father take care of the farm until he passed away, when Martin was seventeen years old.

Though the farm life had been all that Martin had known, he didn't feel it was the life he wanted. So he sold the farm and moved into Skingrad where he met a beautiful young Breton girl named Evaline. She was around his age and had been a member of the Mage's Guild. She, however, was also involved in much more then that; something far more sinister.

Martin became infatuated with Evaline, and she used that to her full advantage. She introduced him to the seductive daedric arts and to Sanguine's Cult, which she was also a member of. He joined her with little to no hesitation, for she stirred in him something he had not felt before, and he found that the darker side of himself liked it. For years he worshipped Sanguine with Evaline and her friends, becoming involved in acts that he wished he could erase from his memory. So high on life and immorality, however, they soon became cocky and reckless.

Martin had been in his late twenties when Evaline and three of his other friends went missing. Martin tried to find out what had happened to them, but Sanguine would not answer when he tried to contact him, which was strange, for Martin had been one of Sanguine's favored followers.

Many days later he finally found them, dead. Finding their mutilated bodies shook Martin to the core and he fled, wanting nothing more to do with Sanguine or daedra, ending up in Kvatch. Having nowhere to go, he found himself at the Temple of Akatosh, and it was there that he met the priest who he would forever be indebted to. This priest converted Martin to the worship of the Nine Divines, and in order to make reparation for his many sins, Martin became a priest himself and spent the next seventeen years of his life doing penance and preaching about the evil of daedric cults.

Martin sighed heavily and rubbed his temple. He knew he would be forever haunted by his past, but at least it became easier to bear as the years went by.

A sudden tremor snapped Martin out of his reverie and he grasped the back of the pew in front of him to steady himself while the whole Temple shook and then ended as abruptly as it began. Martin felt an uneasiness wash over him as he stood and hastened to exit the temple. As he stepped out onto the front steps he saw many others doing the same, stepping out of their houses to see what had caused the tremor. A rumbling of thunder drew Martin's gaze to the skies and his eyes widened as the daybreak blue was infected by red, casting a sickening reddish glow to the city below.

"To the front gates! We're under attack!" Guards cried out as they went rushing by, swords drawn.

The city had very quickly turned into a whirlwind of madness. People were screaming and running around in confusion, not knowing what was happening or even what was attacking them.

"Tierra!" Martin called out to the Reguard woman who was ushering commoners to get out of the city. "What is happening?! What's attacking us?!"

"I don't know, Brother Martin," Tierra answered grimly, her guard uniform looked as though it had been haphazardly put on. The guards had been taken completely by surprise as everyone else had. "They came suddenly and out of know where. I think they're daedra."

"Daedra?" Martin echoed in disbelief. As if one cue, a least a dozen daedra plowed their way in through the front gate.

"You better get out of here, Brother, before you get yourself killed!" Tierra hollered to him, unsheathing her sword and running off to defend a small group of cornered civilians.

Martin could see that the Kvatch guard was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Despair welled up inside him... and anger. The daedra were too much and he could already see Tierra was out-numbered. After a brief moment of hesitation Martin ran to her, flinging fire balls at the scamps that surrounded her and the three civilians. With Martin and Tierra working together they managed to take down at least a handful, but the daedra were still coming through the front gate by the dozen.

"Our exit is cut off, there is no way we can get out of this city alive!" Tierra growled, cutting the head off an approaching Scamp with ease, though it was obvious she was exhausted already.

Martin gritted his teeth, knowing she was right, but unable to give up. He looked to the Chapel. It was their only hope.

"This way! To the Chapel!" he yelled.

The small group ran as fast as they could, killing the daedra that got in their way, though one Scamp leapt and tackled one of the civilians, to the ground. She screamed, but Tierra grabbed the beast by its neck and stabbed it through the back, tossing it aside and helping her to her feet as fast as she could. Martin was already up the Chapel steps and holding the door open, ushering the other two civilians inside. Tierra quickly followed suit with the bawling commoner in tow. Martin then spared one last despairing glance at the burning city before closing the heavy doors firmly behind him.


End file.
